


as though we were drowning inside our hearts

by Cesar



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon Related, Captain America: The First Avenger, Cold, Hypothermia, Injury, M/M, Pain, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2105271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesar/pseuds/Cesar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People say that snow means purity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	as though we were drowning inside our hearts

**Author's Note:**

> title and the quote you’ll find in the text are from a poem by Pablo Neruda.  
> And. Well. Just don't ask, ok? I'm a mess. I was feeling cold and wanted to write something about cold. I ended up here. (Life, I am not amused)

_there are cemeteries that are lonely,_

_graves full of bones that do not make a sound,_

_the heart moving through a tunnel,_

_in it darkness, darkness, darkness_

_like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,_

_as though we were drowning inside our hearts_

_as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul_

_(...)_

_(Pablo Neruda ‒ Only Death)_

 

Bucky feels the cold crawling inside him, darkening the edges of the world, letting him numb. Blood drips wet his clothes, sending shivers through his body, pain spreading like a living entity, making its way from his tip toe to his brain, where it settles with like an agonizing wound ( _it’s the same feeling like being shot but how would he be shot in the head and still be breathing?_ ).

He would scream, if he could – but he can’t find the strength inside him to. He remembers Steve’s hand reaching his hand and – then – falling.

And falling.

Falling forever until there was just the blue sky above him and the snow below him.

 

People say snow means purity. Faith. Even hope. But laying on his white grave of freezing cold, Bucky knows they’re all wrong – there’s nothing pure about snow. It crawls inside you, just like the cold, and it slowly kills you. There’s not even peace because it _hurts_. It’s like being held in place and watching as life is taken away from you; your sanity starts vanishing piece by piece, until your body gives up.

Bucky’s body is already doing it.

 

In his last moments, when he’s coming in and out consciousness, all Bucky wants to do is to feel in peace. He thinks about Steve. He thinks about hot summer days lost in the streets of Brooklyn – he thinks about sunlight smiles and bright blue eyes. The memory of Steve’s laugh spreads warmth in his soul.

 

{ _If only he had been good enough, brave enough… **Strong** enough. There should be no hope for his disgusting feeling but every time he hugged Steve and the boy let him, and every time he sneaked up on his fella’s bed and Steve would curl softly against his chest – Bucky would hope he knew what it meant. He would hope Steve knew how much he dreamed with his pinkish lips and his soft golden hair – and his gentle hands and his tiny body. Bucky would hope Steve knew what it meant and that he wouldn’t leave for it, that he wouldn’t ever break Bucky’s heart._ }

{ _War proved him wrong, with a Captain who didn’t need him and a gal with red lips and red dress._ }

 

And his mind whispers: _It’s okay. You did everything you should. Steve will be ok. He has Peggy now; she’s everything you ever wanted him to be. The war is soon to be over and the world isn’t going to need him anymore. You can rest in peace now._

Deep in his heart, Bucky wants to believe it.

He can’t.


End file.
